


Falling

by girlycards



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/F, Integra-centric, Possibly Unrequited Love, a drabble study on love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlycards/pseuds/girlycards
Summary: A short drabble on the slow realization of love.
Relationships: Integra Hellsing/Seras Victoria
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Falling

Love can come like a storm. Or like a waterfall, powerful flowing freely. Or it can be like a drop in a bucket. Then one day, you realize the bucket is overflowing and your heart is, too.

Love came to Integra slowly. When she first loved Seras, there was not a single moment. But when she realized it was not clear-cut, either.

Perhaps it had been a moment she wished had been longer. She couldn’t recall the words that Seras had said, perhaps some report on the new recruits, but she could recall the warmth that had filled her chest. The sense of safety, calm. The ongoing desire to hear those words again, to have the opportunity to listen to Seras once more.

Perhaps that had been the first drop.

Or, the drip, once when Seras had draped her coat over her shoulders, and Integra wished her hands had lingered for longer on her shoulders. The memory was warmer than any coat, and Integra found herself thinking of the memory with increasing fondness more often than she would ever admit.

A slow leak that lingered in her mind. When Seras wasn’t there, the way she wanted to remember every aspect. The curve of her lip, the messiness of her ponytail, the way her hands clumsily flipped through paperwork.

The splash when once Seras was late to return from a mission, and the ensuing panic. The way she had embraced Seras the moment she came within arm’s reach. The feeling of wholeness, the way it felt so correct to have her in her arms.

Perhaps it was not a bucket, but an ocean that she would happily drown in. A sea of emotion. But a bucket can seem so vast—and come to seem burdensome, heavy—particularly when not shared. Or like rain, drops coming down faster, drenching her. And when it rains, it pours. And without cover, imparting upon her a chill and fear. Overwhelming, but yet _just a drop_.

Falling rain, falling down, falling in love.


End file.
